That Wasn't the Question, George Weasley
by dork-with-glasses
Summary: It doesn't matter. I'm not going out to go out with you, Angelina." He said as he turned around and walked away from Fred's grave, from Angelina. "That wasn't the question, George Weasley." She snapped as she stared at the back of George's red hair.


**Takes place in the second winter after Fred's death (just over a year and a half after his death).**

**It's not really a T but I'm paranoid about swearing in a fiction, so it's for the one swear word. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

He was here, at the cemetery, again. Standing over his twin's grave he brushed a tear from beneath his left eye; he knew he shouldn't cry, it had been over a year and a half since his brother had died after all. Over a year where he hadn't gone a minute without thinking of Fred, George added bitterly.

"I'm sorry," He whispered for the millionth time that year, "for not being there."

George just stood there in the snow, scuffing his feet in the snow around the graveyard and pulling at the scarf around his neck as his red hair whipped around in the wind.

"I don't know what I'm doing here without you," George admitted as he continued to speak to the grave in front of him. "Nothing seems like it used to. I don't know what to do about anything, you always helped me with things that were difficult, and we worked everything out together. Everything is so much harder without you, Fred."

"GEORGE WEASLEY!" he heard an angry shout from behind him.

"And here's Angelina." He told his brother's grave. "I told her not to come after me, but of course she didn't listen."

George turned around to see a young woman running towards him through the graves, her dark skin flushed from the cold as her black hair flew around her face where her beanie wasn't keeping it in place. George sighed, she shouldn't have come.

"What are you doing here, Ange?" he asked the young woman as she reached him.

"To see you, idiot!" Angelina snapped as she glared at the man in front of her.

"I told you Angelina-"George started.

"You didn't say a single stinking thing George Weasley!" she shouted. "You said no and then turned around and disapparated."

"Exactly, I said n-"

"Don't give me that George, I want to know why." Her glare intensified as she looked straight into his clear blue eyes.

"Because I'm a bloody mess, you don't deserve me, besides you went out with Fred, how could I possibly go out with my dead twin's ex-girlfriend?" George said, tears filling up his normally tough eyes at the thought of his twin, his brother, his best friend.

"That's absolute bullshit George, and you know it!" she shouted, her eyes still defiant. "Fred and I went out on one date, to the Yule ball; we didn't even kiss or anything like that, George."

"It doesn't matter. I'm not going to go out with you Angelina." He said as he turned around and walked away from Fred's grave, from Angelina.

"That wasn't the question, George Weasley." She snapped as she stared at the back of George's red hair as he stopped walking.

George turned around, shock, Angelina could tell, written in his shining eyes.

For a few minutes the two stood there, in front of Fred Weasley's grave, staring each other down, waiting to see which one would break the gaze first, it was the battle of the stubborn and it was a game that George and Angelina were both masters at.

A howl of wind reached their ears and it wrapped around them, making their scarves fly in front of their faces, but still they stared. Predictably though, George cracked first.

"Yes it was. You asked me to go out with you." He said as he surveyed Angelina's face as if looking for the lie he thought she was keeping.

"No I didn't." She said quite simply.

"Yes you did! I was there!" George began to get angry. "Merlin Angelina, are you saying you didn't mean it when you asked me."

"When will you listen George Weasley?" Angelina asked exasperatedly as she walked towards him. "I didn't ask you if you would go out with me-"

"Yes, you did." He said defiantly. "You-"but he was stopped as he noticed Angelina was very close to him.

"I didn't." She shook her head. "I asked you if you _wanted _to go out with me."

"What's the difference?" he said angrily, all too aware that she was extremely close to him now, he could see the few freckles that fell haphazardly across the bridge of her nose.

"The difference, George," she breathed as she put her arms around his neck. "Is that you never said that you didn't _want _to go out with me. You just said you weren't going to. The difference here being that you can still want something, without doing it."

"Either way, I can't go out with you." George said as he breathed in the scent of Angelina's perfume.

"Yes you can." She said and moved her lips forward a few inches so that they were on George's.

All at once, George's worries about going Angelina seemed to disappear as she kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her waist as the kiss intensified. Nothing in the world seemed to exist except Angelina and him. All he could smell was her, all he could taste was her lips and all he could feel was complete, and absolute happiness.

"So, George Weasley," Angelina smirked as she pulled away, took a step back and put her hands on her hips. "Are sure you don't _want _to go out with me?"

George looked at her; he looked like he was having in internal battle ("Yes you do! She's amazing!" one train of thought was saying, "No you don't! It'll screw everything up!" the other was battling).

"Ange," George started, "of course I do but-"

"No buts George Weasley. I'll see you at the Leaky Caldron at 7 tomorrow." She smiled and with CRACK, she disapparated.

"Bloody Hell," George muttered to himself as stuffed his hands back in his pocket. "This is all your fault." He told the gravestone and slowly walked away from his twin brother, thinking about Angelina Johnson, and what her lips felt like on his.

From On Fred Weasley laughed, happy that his twin had finally found someone to help him through this and someone who wouldn't take no for an answer. He watched his twin as George left his gravestone, muttering curses about Angelina Johnson and her "bloody snogging ability" and Fred laughed, he just laughed.

**Author's note: I've been in a bit of a George/Angelina mood at the moment and thought of this one-shot. I really hope you enjoyed it, I loved writing it. I've always imagined George trying to push Angelina away and her having to force him to go out with her, but that's just me. I'd love a review if you'd give the time to write one!**

**TTFN**

**Dork-with-glasses**

**Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo**


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